


Misery Loves Company

by tulioandesmi



Category: Starfighter (Comic)
Genre: M/M, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-27
Updated: 2012-12-27
Packaged: 2017-11-22 16:16:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 782
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/611752
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tulioandesmi/pseuds/tulioandesmi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Deimos and Ethos have a lot more in common than either of them expected.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Misery Loves Company

"You're too obvious," a voice whispered quietly, and Ethos jumped, nearly dropping the tray of food he had just received. He whirled around to find a slim fighter staring unblinkingly back at him, holding a tray of his own. 

"Wh- what?" Ethos replied dumbly, caught off guard by the fact that a fighter was actually speaking with him. Was this man a friend of Praxis, perhaps…? 

Deimos gave a quiet, long-suffering sigh, balancing his tray expertly on one hand to grasp Ethos' wrist and tug him along gently. Ethos almost upturned his food all over the fighter, hastily pressing the tray close to his chest to hold it in place. "Come on," Deimos murmured, "Everyone's staring. Let's go somewhere private." 

Somewhere private? Ethos' cheeks colored as he wondered what that meant. He had heard about fighters and their penchant for having sex with navigators, but no one had ever come up to him before. He panicked slightly, unsure of how to say no to the fighter, or if it was even safe to. True, the fighter was much smaller than the others on the ship, slim and lean muscles reminiscent of an athletic navigator, and it wasn't like Ethos had never had sex before… 

"I'm not coming on to you," a soft voice broke through his thoughts as though reading his mind, and Ethos flushed even harder than before. 

"Okay," he managed to get out, and he could've sworn that the fighter gave him something akin to a smile. It was nice seeing a toughened warrior show a bit of happiness; Praxis hardly ever did, not since Ethos had been assigned to him. 

Ethos gathered his thoughts, reprimanding himself for obsessing over his fighter as usual. He stood up a bit straighter as Deimos' hand released his wrist, returning to the food tray as before. They had wound their way into one of the spacier storage rooms for extra guns and ammo, and Deimos perched himself delicately on top of a crate before motioning for Ethos to sit down as well. Ethos ignored this, choosing instead to only set down his tray and cross his arms in front of his broad chest, broader than the slim fighter's, thinking over his next words carefully. He had a lot of questions in his mind, but only one seemed important at the moment. "Too obvious about what, exactly?" He had a nagging feeling he knew the answer. 

Deimos' lidded gaze bore into his, and Ethos almost felt as if the fighter's pale eyes were reaching deep inside him, yanking out the secret he thought he'd guarded so carefully, bringing his own fighter's name to his lips. "Yeah, I know, _Praxis_ ," he sighed, lowering himself to the floor and sitting cross-legged. Deimos nodded silently and Ethos dug his fingers into his curly hair, tugging a bit out of frustration. 

"Well, what am I supposed to do about it? It's not like he knows- or if he does, he doesn't _care_ , anyhow." There was a long silence as Ethos began to get the idea that the other fighter wasn't much of a talker. He didn't really believe that the fighter was a friend of Praxis', either- his aura was so different that Ethos couldn't imagine them truly getting along. As Deimos ate his food daintily before him, far too well-mannered to be a fighter, the navigator puzzled as to why the man had even spoken to him at all. 

"Ethos," he blurted out, not sure how to break the silence, but wanting to know more about the fighter, if just the man's name. "My name is Ethos." He stuck out his hand for Deimos to shake but the fighter looked down at his hand as though it was an alien species. Ethos took his hand back slowly, scratching at the back of his neck out of awkwardness.

"Deimos," came the hoarse reply. "But Cain calls me _Myshonok_." 

"Cain?" Ethos repeated half-heartedly, plucking at a loose string in his pants. Praxis had told him about Cain- well, Praxis had muttered about Cain and Ethos had strained his ears to listen, and what he'd managed to pick up wasn't good.

"My Praxis," Deimos explained softly, sounding both eager and regretful at the same time. 

"Oh," Ethos responded. Both men looked down at their food, even though neither of them really felt hungry. "It sucks, doesn't it," the navigator admitted, and Deimos squeezed his eyes shut underneath his dark bangs, humming his agreement. They sat in silence for a little while longer, and Ethos felt a small smile being to play across his lips. 

"But still, it's nice having someone to feel sucky with," he conceded, and Deimos hummed again.


End file.
